DANA STIRLING

Self Published | Dimensions: 10"x7" | Print: Newspaper

This in progress body of work is a self-reflection of who I am as a person and my connection to photography. Growing up back in a small town in Israel, I spent most of my time inside my room. I felt alone both outside those walls and inside of them. I was always alone even when I was around others. My house never really felt like a home, and my room was not an escape it was just all I had. Family was not a comfort; it was a cause for much of the stress, anxiety and mainly the sadness I felt. My mother, even though we didn’t speak about it often, suffers from clinical depression. I saw her lose more and more of herself, becoming less and less a person I understood. When you are young you just think of it as if your mom is just a little sad, so it makes sense that you also are – a little sad sometimes. It took me years to understand how it really affected me and my own struggles with depression. As I grew older, and my frustration of the situation grew, I found myself hiding in my room for days, hours and years, buried with my head down in this sand prison. I just felt sad all the time. I felt like there was no escape. Ever. In this loneliness, I found comfort in photography. With my camera it would be just me in my room and a random object like an eggshell, a figurine, a mirror etc. and I could have it tell my story for me. Photography allowed me to take my inner dialogue and bring it out by using still life as my personal coded language. I was able to communicate with these objects better than people. They told the story I was not able to. Now, years after moving as far as I could from that room, I find myself still being sad. Photography has become not just an escape but now also my burden. When I don’t photograph, I am sad, and when I do photograph my images are sad as well as if I am no longer able to escape the cloud of sad that is above me. "Why am I Sad?” is my exploration of my personal relationship to photography and the world that I see through my camera’s lens. It is an open question that I don’t intend to answer but I hope that I can find comfort in it once more.

Hand made | Dimensions: 8.5" x 11" | Cover: canvas archival pigment print wrap

The New York Public Library Picture Collection caches over one million original prints, photos, posters, graphics, magazines, illustrations and texts sorted into thousands of binders, each with a specific category and subject. One binder, “UFOs”, claims to hold and archive our cultural interest in the existence of extraterrestrial life. A binder that was composed into this book. Property of the NYPL Picture Collection contains over 200 pages. This book was hand crafted and is currently a one of a kind publication with only one copy made to date. The book’s cover is a canvas inkjet print, which was then, used a book cloth. With 14 paper signatures the books holds over 100 images all scanned and than manipulated in Photoshop. The picture collection’s signature stamp has become a crucial graphic and conceptual element within the book’s pages creating juxtaposition between the printed matter and the physicality of the archive. The book does not attempt to make a scientific observation. There was no research done. There has being no attempt in reading the books from which the images were taken, or understand their original and larger framework. The images were used as pictures, and pictures only.

Hand made | Dimensions: 17 x 8 cm | 'Behr' paint color swatch's in various shades | Laser etched text

Dear Artist, We Regret to Tell you is a book that celebrated rejection and failure as we have all lived through it. I collected 13 [lucky] rejection emails from my inbox each laser etched individually on a color swatch.  The leaser burns off the first layer of the paper, revealing the white under the color. I used Bher color swatches, first because they are free and easy to get, and the secondly because they hold so much potential in them – they are titled in such a way that makes you smile and hope that your life, or at least your room, could be as good as this paint chip claims. In the end, rejection letter have a tendency to be generic, one sided and repetitive, no rejection letter is special which stands in contrast to these color swatches. The fan format allows the viewer to look at the letter as a group or as an individual as there is no real start or end to this publication. Edition of 150 | The book is available for purchase - please send email to get information

Hand made | Dimensions: 8"x8.5" | Cover: book cloth with front envelope inset sealed with wax

The statement that represents the book is the definition of its title – cache memory. The decision to name the book and present it through this definition is handed down as recognition of what is hidden in photographs, coded and read through context; that photographs can unfold memories but not necessarily the same ones that were originally embedded in them. I’m researching a history that I don’t see as actually mine; Family memories that I am not part of. The images become objects that I use in order to create a new history and memory of my own; people and places as I would like to remember and understand them. I started not only looking for my identity in the old photos but also reflect my feelings from these photos on to the world around me. I look for Moments and objects were there is a tension that is created by their incomplete aesthetic. Photography allows me to look at the little and unimportant objects around me and make them a part of my history just by giving them attention. By looking at them I capture them to remember, not letting them go away, yet not trying to save them. Watching their last seconds before I leave and the moment becomes irrelevant, capturing their last breath. With my camera I grant them with eternity and in that I grant myself a memory. The book cover has an envelope that is sealed with a wax fossil stamp - just like the content of the book there is always something the reader can not open fully even though it is right there for them to see.